


Love Looks Good On You

by phantisma



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Love Potion/Spell, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-09
Updated: 2008-11-09
Packaged: 2017-11-29 03:26:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/682185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantisma/pseuds/phantisma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Dean hates soapy scenes, so how unhappy is he when he gets a drink of a love potion and goes all dopey over his own brother? </i>  A witch slips Dean a little something extra.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Looks Good On You

Dean raised his beer and rolled his eyes as Sam navigated his way through the crowded bar. He doubted his brother had any more luck than he did. Sam slid into the booth shaking his head.

"I know." Dean grinned and sipped from his beer. "Not what I was expecting either."

Sam shrugged. "We were looking for witches. I think we found them."

Dean put his beer down and raised an eyebrow. "These new age, lovey-dovey chick flick lesbians are not what we were looking for."

Sam chuckled and waved down a beer of his own. "No? Don't think they could do it?"

Dean sat back and looked around him at the paired up blondes and brunettes. Hot, young and ten deep. Normally it would be just his scene. In fact, when he'd first walked in the bar, he'd figured it was.

Until he'd talked to Hope and Cassidy. He pointed with one finger to the duo. "Love and Light over there? I think they believe the bullshit they dish out."

Sam laughed. "Shot you down?"

Hope was looking at him now. Dean smiled. She lifted her glass as the waitress dropped off Sam's beer and another one for Dean. She sashayed across the room and leaned over the table. "No hard feelings, we didn't mean to question your manhood." She ran a finger down Dean's face, then glanced at Sam. "Enjoy."

Dean watched her walk away, slip her hand into Cassidy's and together they left the bar, the rest of their friends following them out.

"What was that about?" Sam asked, lifting his beer.

Dean made a face. "What?"

"They questioned your manhood?"

Dean guzzled down the beer and shook his head. "In their dreams."

"Well, if it helps, I think I found a lead."

"Yeah?" Dean downed the last of the beer and stood. "Come on then. Let's get out of here."

 

Dean's head was spinning as they reached the door and he stumbled back against Sam, grabbing at his jacket to keep his feet.

"Dude, how many did you have before I got here?"

"One. I'm not drunk." Dean pushed Sam away and blinked up at him.

"What is that look?" Sam asked as he pushed the door open.

"What look?"

Sam shrugged, I don't know, it was weird."

" **You're** weird Sasquatch. What's this lead?"

 

 

Two hours later Sam's lead went down in flames and Dean was really hot. And not because it was upwards of eighty five degrees at nine pm. He was aroused, in disturbing ways.

Like how Sam's eyes seemed to sparkle and make Dean's heart flutter. Fucking flutter. Or when Sam threw a balled up piece of paper at him, Dean giggled. Fucking giggled.

"Get in the car." Dean growled, slamming his door shut and bringing the engine to life.

Sam scowled at him. "What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing. This is a bust. I'm tired." Dean squealed the tires getting them turned around.

"You've been acting weird since we left the bar."

Dean knew that. He found himself staring at Sam's ass while Sam talked with their witness. And he'd touched Sam's hair when the breeze blew and made it ripple. He'd covered it, pretending to pick something out of Sam's hair, but it was weird.

He pulled into the motel parking lot and climbed out of the car. "You think maybe those witches did something to me?"

Sam unlocked the door to their room. "Like what?"

"I don't know…laid some mojo on me or something?" He dropped his keys on the table and sat down to pull off his boots.

"Do you feel okay?"

Dean grimaced and shrugged. "Fine." Well, fine except that he wanted to run his fingers through Sam's hair, and tell him he was beautiful.

"Dean?"

"What?"

Sam chuckled and shook his head. "You're looking at me like you want to kiss me or something."

Dean scowled and stood. "I do." He clenched his fists, then released them and pointed at Sam. "We don't kiss," he said fiercely. They may do other things, they may touch and bite and bleed together, they may sometimes fall into bed and fuck like the sun wasn't going to come up in the morning…but they didn't kiss. Not they way Dean wanted to right now. They didn't hold one another and rub their skin together and stare longingly into each other's eyes. Like he was doing right this minute. He turned away. "I'm going to shower."

He stormed past Sam and into the bathroom, stripping off his clothes as he went. He was horny, but it was more than that…or different. He dropped his jeans and reached into the shower, turning the knob, but nothing happened.

"Um, Dean?"

He exhaled slowly, his hands dropping to cover his cock before he turned to find Sam leaning in the doorway. "Shower doesn't work. Remember?"

"Fuck."

Sam smiled. That same smile he'd been smiling since he was five. Big, bright, brilliant. Dean swallowed a sudden need to reach for him, to kiss over the edges of that smile and taste it, but couldn't stop the smile that broke over his own face. "God you're pretty when you smile." He groaned. "I didn't just say that."

"Chick flick." Sam laughed, pulling Dean in. His big hand cupped the back of Dean's neck, tilting his face up for a kiss. His lips lingered, his tongue mapping out the inside of Dean's mouth. A girly moan slipped from his mouth into Sam's.

Dean yanked his head back. "We don't--"

Sam's smile was soft, his eyes tender as he leaned in. "We do now."

Dean was inclined to argue, but Sam's hands were tugging on his, drawing them away from his cock. "No chick flick moments." Dean murmured, mesmerized by the way Sam was touching him, like Dean was something precious.

"Too late." Sam whispered back.

"You're never gonna let me live this down." Dean muttered as Sam guided him back toward the bed.

"Never."

"Fucking witches." Dean was pulling at Sam's clothes, but it wasn't the same frantic need that usually followed a hunt. He wanted to touch him, skin and muscle.

Dean finally got to his chest, his hands running over his hard stomach, up over his nipples. He wanted this. It was like a knife in his gut, wanting to touch and kiss and caress. Sam stood still, letting Dean pet over him, kiss over him, his eyes closed. Dean sat on the bed, his fingers sliding into the waistband of Sam's jeans to pull him closer. He kissed over stomach muscles, his tongue sliding through the grooves and down into Sam's navel while his hands unzipped his brother's jeans.

There was a haze of emotion pulling him away from coherent thought and while he knew he was whispering something, and it was most definitely not manly somethings judging from the dopey look on Sam's face, Dean couldn't stop. He slid up on the bed once Sam's jeans fell, drawing Sam with him.

Dean's fingers slid through Sam's hair as Sam lay over him, tiny flicks of softness on his skin. It was unbelievably intoxicating. Sam's mouth moved over Dean, thigh, stomach, chest and when he reached Dean's mouth, Sam kissed him. Dean's mouth fell open, wanton and wanting and dear God Sam was never going to let him forget the sounds he was making as Sam's fingers worked him open.

Whimpers fell from his lips as Sam slid into him, whimpers and breathy moans and he could swear he heard himself say something about love. Dean shook his head. It was a spell. Just a spell. They'd get through it.

Just as long as Sam kept kissing him that way. Just as long as Sam's smile lit up the room. Just as long as Sam--Fuck. "Fuck." He realized what this was. It was the beer. Hope bought him a beer. She'd whammied him with a love potion.

He was in love with his brother. And fuck if that wasn't totally fucked up.

Sam's hips flexed and pressed his cock in against Dean, making him yell and arch up. Dean's own cock was heavy against his stomach and as Sam's come filled him, Dean came too.

Sam fell to the bed beside him, panting. "I could get used to this." Sam grinned, and as much as Dean wanted to be angry with him, he couldn't look at that face and feel anything other than affection.

Dean settled for grabbing the shirt he'd pulled off of Sam to wipe up his stomach before laying beside his brother. It only took a minute before Dean couldn't keep from turning to look at Sam again. He bit his lip, fighting the urge.

Sam looked at him quizzically. "What is it?"

Dean closed his eyes, swallowed. Sam was so never going to let him forget this. "I want--" He huffed and decided to just do it, moving to lay his head on Sam's shoulder, his body flush with Sam's side. He pulled Sam's arm over him.

"You want to cuddle?" Sam asked, though his voice didn't have the expected teasing tone in it.

"No." Dean said petulantly. "Yes."

Sam smiled, pressing kisses into Dean's hair. "Remind me to thank those witches."

"They fucking love spelled me, Sam."

"Love looks good on you, Dean." Sam said softly.

"Shut up."

 

Sam's hair. His nose. His chin. His big hands. The smell of his skin. His smile. That sly look on his face when he was thinking about sex. The way he looked at Dean.

All of it was making Dean crazy.

Even the way he ate his breakfast was enough to make Dean stop and watch. "You're staring at me again." Sam said without looking up.

"Sorry." Dean muttered, turning his eyes back to his eggs.

Sam's hand reached over the table, cupping Dean's cheek. "It's cute."

"Bitch." Dean slapped Sam's hand away.

"If it helps, she said it would wear off."

"It doesn't help." Dean grumbled. Sam smiled and Dean groaned. "And stop that." He could feel every smile in the pit of his stomach.

"Hello boys." Dean looked up to find Hope and Cassidy standing by the table. Instinctively he pulled his coffee cup away and covered it. "Don't worry big boy. I can see I don't need to dose you again."

"Fucking witch, I should--"

She raised an eyebrow as Sam's hand took his and Dean stopped to look at him, smiling a dopey, love-sick smile before he realized it and shook his head to clear it a little.

"You should thank me." Hope said. "Your partner here should anyway. I'll bet he's enjoying it." She wrapped an arm around Cassidy. "And my girl here made me promise it wouldn't hurt you…just open you up a little."

"Turn me into a girl, you mean." Dean said through clenched teeth.

Hope leaned down, speaking so low only Dean would hear. "The emotions are all yours, loverboy, I just let them out of the cage you had them locked up in. Love looks good on you."

"Come on Hope, we have to go."

"Bye boys. Have fun."

Dean scowled into his eggs. "What did she say?" Sam asked.

"Nothing…just more of that white light crap. You done? I want to hit the road."

"I need to use the bathroom before we go."

Dean nodded and watched him leave, swallowing down a bitter truth. He was in love with Sam.

He was in love with his brother. And fuck if that wasn't totally fucked up.


End file.
